For a moment as I sat in my seat on board a flight from New Orleans to Denver, I thought that the rest of my day was totally going to be pear shaped. The flight attendant’s eyes had just narrowed and her face was wearing an expression that only comes out when someone has just flipped the bozo bit on you.
A few minutes before, I had been making photographs and shooting video out of the window of the aircraft. It’s something I do all of the time. I was using my Panasonic GH-1 with a flip out screen. I shot some footage of clouds going by. Then, when decided I was done for a bit, I sat back in my seat and put the camera in my lap. The screen flipped around as I set it down and was displaying a live view through the lens of the panel above the seat. Just as I was noticing that the shapes of the air vents were framed nicely..., I was surprised by somebody speaking very sternly to me.
“You can’t film the interior of the aircraft. You have to stop now.” I looked up at who spoke and a flight attendant was standing right at my row. I wasn’t actually filming right then, but how was she to know?
“OK,” I said. “No problem. By the way, where I can read where it says I can’t?”
“It’s our security policy,” she responded testily.
“I understand,” I replied, “I’m asking where I would be able to read that security policy?”
I figured it was an appropriate question. As the words came out of my mouth, however, that I realized that she wasn’t actually listening to what I was asking. She was just perceiving my questions as resistance. Her expression hardened further. She didn’t reply this time, but just stood there glaring at me with a look almost challenging me to press on. This wasn’t a situation I wanted to make worse. After all, just imagine the outcome of a flight attendant reporting a security policy matter to the captain.
“It’s not my intention,” I said choosing my words very carefully, “to be an ass. I’m complying with your request. I just want to know where I can find out more information about the policy so that I can be better educated. That’s all.”
“They’re in our security manuals,” she said waiving to the front of the aircraft. At least the steely glare had started to soften from outright make-my-day-punk hostility to something a bit less threatening. She went on, ”They’re not available to you.”
“That’s interesting...” I responded. At this point, I decided just shelve any further questions I had and just shut up. I leaned down and packed up my camera in my backpack. After carefully watching me do so, the attendant walked away. Luckily, this happened just a few minutes before the crew buttoned up the plane for final approach, so I didn't have to wait too long to get off the plane and sort out my thoughts.
After settling into the terminal to wait for my next flight, I looked up United’s policy on photography and video. The relevant bits are: “The use of still and video cameras, film or digital, including any cellular or other devices that have this capability, is permitted only for recording of personal events.” It goes on to say, however, that “...unauthorized photography, audio, or video recording of airline personnel, aircraft equipment, or procedures is always prohibited.”
Since the air vents are airline equipment, it does look like I was violating a strict interpretation of United’s published policy. Sadly, the policy and the legality and enforcement of it isn’t really why I’m writing this, even though I do wonder what threat a photo of the panel above the seats could be.
No, the reason I’m writing this is because the exchange that I had with a flight attendant over the use of a camera seemed to have the potential, at least for a few seconds, for a very unpleasant outcome. In a more rational world, I’d actually laugh at myself for even having a worry. But, in the world of post 9/11-travel, things are increasingly irrational. For a moment there, yah. I did worry. That sucks.